Disclaimer: Yada yada yada Rurouni Kenshin does not belong to me yada yada yada It belongs to Watsuki-sensei yada yada yada Does anyone really read these?

Without Words

Chapter 11- Under Fire

"You're letting me go?" Misao exclaimed, as the blond police officer ushered her out of the small cell. She wasn't sure exactly how long she had been there, but she guessed that it couldn't have been more than four hours. It was probably dark outside now.

The cop shot her a smirk and what seemed to be his trademark one-eyed glance. "Don't keep our hopes up, sweetie. But you're one cool customer, you know that? Seems you got someone verrrry interested in your little escapade."

He led her into a sparsely furnished room, with only one table, a typewriter and two chairs. A ceiling fan whirred noisily above them. Stepping inside, Misao was reminded of Aoshi's office at the University, a cold room. That seemed like such a long time ago.

Waiting for her inside was Captain Saitou Hajime.

"Chou, leave," he instructed his officer gruffly. "You, sit," he told Misao. Once the other cop had closed the door behind him, Captain Saitou took a deep puff from his cigarette.

Misao squirmed under the Captain's firm stare, but she tried not to show it. She had been arrested before, for 'trespassing'. She had been assigned a story on a touchy foreign affairs issue, and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs didn't appreciate the fact that she was hanging around the home of one of their top officials. But even that didn't merit her an appearance from the Tokyo Police Department's captain -- mainly because Okina and Kenshin had gotten her out of there quicker than she could say maximum security. Of course, now things were a little different -- she could hardly protest her innocence when they caught her in the driver's seat of Aoshi's Subaru. The blond cop had let it slip out that there was no one found in the other vehicle, and at that point, Misao renewed her resolve to keep her mouth shut.

But damn, this would have made a good story. She could just imagine the headlines: Journalist destroys Kyoto, gets arrested. Of course, 'destroy' was an exaggeration, but what the heck? That would definitely sell.

"Miss Makimachi," Captain Saitou snapped at her, jolting her back to reality. "Your earlier activities have been brought to my attention in more ways than one. You've got a bunch of people inquiring after you, including your friend Himura. Now if only I just had him to worry about." He made a low menacing growl. "I'm warning you, weasel-girl: I do not appreciate such distractions and interference in my work. So I'll make this easy for you -- tell me what I need to know and we'll drop all the charges."

This had the makings of a good deal, she could tell. But with Captain Saitou glowering at her like some rabid wolf, Misao reconsidered. What was he going to get out of it? Besides, Aoshi said that he would get her out. If she made a deal with the Captain, where would that leave Aoshi? "I have my rights."

Captain Saitou reclined in his seat, his eyes narrowed. "Witnesses have described the men from the other vehicle. Details are sketchy, but we have reason to believe that they were from the Juppongatana. Preliminary reports on the bullet holes in the Subaru you were driving showed that they were fired from unlicensed guns. It's no secret that we've wanted to eliminate the Juppongatana for a long time now, and we'll try everything. Even you." He leaned forward, startling Misao. "Now why are they after a Tokyo reporter? What did you find about your father's death?"

Misao's breath caught in her throat. Of course that was what he assumed. The captain didn't know about Aoshi, didn't know that this was about him, not her. She could just say honestly that she didn't find anything, and maybe he would leave it at that. But by answering his question, she risked confirming that she was running away from the Juppongatana -- and who knew what the police would do about information like that? After all, she promised Aoshi that she wouldn't say anything.

"Who are you protecting?" Captain Saitou pressed on, as if he read her mind.

Still Misao kept silent.

Captain Saitou brought out a piece of faxed paper from his pocket and waved it in her face. "From Himura. Shall I read it?" But he didn't wait for her to answer. "Saitou," the captain said in his typical growl, "I have important information that I need to get to Makimachi Misao who, you will be surprised to know, is under your custody. Once she is released or has posted bail, please give her the addresses of these two men: Hanazawa Kazuma and Sadojima Hoji." He stopped and looked at her. "It's simple, Miss Makimachi. Answer my questions and you get the addresses. And then you can leave."

Misao looked at the paper greedily. If she could get her hands on those addresses, she could just walk away from this all. She would be free from the police, free from Aoshi. She would be able to find out about her father and go back home to Tokyo. She could feel herself weakening. But then a thought stopped her. Even if the captain set her free, she would be left to deal with the Juppongatana by herself.

Alone, again.

But she couldn't do that. She couldn't go back to Tokyo and have them follow her home. She had a life there. She had a family. Friends. She had to let things end here in Kyoto. Now she understood what Aoshi meant when he returned to cut his ties with the Juppongatana, because it was his only way to start anew. Now, it was her only way to reclaim her life.

"I'm sorry, Captain," she said.

Captain Saitou looked like he was ready to strangle her into submission, and she couldn't blame him. On the surface, everything looked extremely simple. Just as he opened his mouth to give her a piece of his mind, the door burst open and the officer named Chou burst in.

"This better be good," Captain Saitou announced. Misao was shocked to see that his gun was immediately drawn, aimed right at Chou's head. This man was scary. If this was the way he treated his subordinates, she could only guess how he treated everyone else. She choked back a gulp.

But Chou didn't seem to be bothered with his captain's actions. Either he was used to it, she surmised, or he had a really good reason short of the world coming to an end. "Someone's posting her bail."

Her heart leapt. Was it Aoshi?

"Some guy whose face looks like it was trampled on by a dozen elephants. You wouldn't believe it," Chou laughed, looking straight at Misao. "Where do you get these characters?"

When both Chou and Captain Saitou escorted her outside, she understood what he meant. The man standing before her wore a dark blue, almost purple suit, but that wasn't what caught her attention. What did was his disfigured face. It was a grotesque collection of unhealed cuts and bruises, and it nearly made her cringe. She shrank back a bit when he stepped forward, but he smiled at her in a strange way that softened his ghastly features.

In his hand, he held out a pair of sunglasses. "He sent me," the man said simply, speaking in a low tone that the police officers could not hear, "and said that he should have taken your advice on the coat. Maybe then he wouldn't have left it in the car."

"Who are you?" she hissed. There was no doubt that Aoshi had sent him; no one else could know about their argument over his trenchcoat. But did he seriously want her to go with this man?

He didn't seem to take offense. "Boss calls me Hannya." Then he winked. It wasn't pretty. "Trust me, we're busting you out."

***

Seta Soujirou didn't dare attack the police department, although Shishio had been sorely tempted to so many times in the past. In a way, Soujirou had a lot to do with it, since he respected the amber-eyed police captain. He had always been intrigued by Captain Saitou's gruff demeanor and his fierce ideals, mixing together in one formidable opponent who chased them down as relentlessly as a wolf sought his prey.

But his presence in the police's territory was not for attack. Not yet, in any case. Soujirou waited in the shadows, carefully studying the area for activity – like Professor Shinomori coming back to rescue his Tokyo reporter. He would be ready for it.

Makimachi Misao. Soujirou had only spent a short time with her, but he couldn't deny the faint attraction he felt for the professor's woman. She was bright and trusting, but when she stepped in between them to stop their fight, Soujirou glimpsed her fiery temper and headstrong courage. It was rare to see someone like her, someone who was not afraid of the consequences of her actions, but who still clung to her ideals. The women in the Juppongatana, few as they were, were certainly made of steel and fire. But they had become so jaded by the world they moved in, that they ended up being defeated by the same society whose order they sought to challenge and defy. Not that he was interested, of course, but well… Makimachi Misao was different.

And right then, he could see her being escorted into a dark green van by a tall, broad-shouldered man. He couldn't see him quite well from his vantage point. The man's features were barely distinguishable. As the van pulled off from the curb, Soujirou started his Mitsubishi in pursuit. She wasn't going to get away from him now.

He had his orders. A hit was a hit was a hit. But he couldn't take her out now, when it was still too close to the police department. But Seta Soujirou was a patient man. And he was only biding his time.

***

He wasn't a block away from his apartment when the shadows attacked. Aoshi dodged the first flying fist, executing a perfect roundhouse kick. The second caught him by the side of his jaw, but he was already moving away so the impact of the blow was considerably lessened. In one fluid motion, Aoshi unsheathed his kodachis.

Let them come.

***

"Okay, let me get this straight," Misao told Hannya. "Aoshi called you in from Tokyo and sent you to bail me out. Then we're going to hide out for a while until he takes care of things and decides that it's safe." She scowled. "What the hell is he planning to do, take out Shishio and the rest of the Juppongatana?"

The older man grinned at her almost sheepishly. It was a disconcerting expression to see on the face of someone who looked so menacing. "I admit that when you put it that way, it sounds --"

"Preposterous," Misao interrupted. "Crazy. Hare-brained. Completely whacked. You get the idea?"

"It's just that the boss is confident that he will succeed," Hannya announced. "I met him an hour ago when he gave those sunglasses to me. Trust me, he's ready for them."

Misao rolled her eyes. "God spare me from illogical men and their egos." In her hands, she clutched the fax that Kenshin had sent Captain Saitou. She had threatened, pleaded, and cursed until she could weasel her way to Captain Saitou's nerves. In the end, he had relented and handed her the addresses, along with her other belongings that they had taken when she was arrested – which included Aoshi's stinking trenchcoat. They asked her no more questions.

"They're following us, you know," Hannya intoned. "That's why they let you go so easily. It's been a while since the Juppongatana had conducted a public hit like yours today. You lured them out of hibernation. Captain Saitou's not going to like it if they suddenly disappeared now that he's ready for them."

She pointed to the red Honda that was so obviously following them since they left the police station. She knew that if she looked hard enough, she would see Chou and his shock of blond hair behind the wheel. "Tell me he's not going after the Juppongatana with that."

"Don't underestimate Captain Saitou," Hannya warned.

"I'm not underestimating him," Misao clarified. "It's his minions I'm worried about." She glanced back at Chou again. "Think we can lose him?"

"We can try," Hannya answered. "But we don't want to do anything too suspicious."

Misao hid a grin. Despite his deformed features, there was something endearing about the older man. He was like a protective older brother, a father even. And for one thing, he was extremely loyal to the blue-eyed professor who still remained conspicuously absent. But Misao wasn't going to sit around waiting for him to come.

"While we're at it," she continued in her sweetest voice, looking at the addresses in her hand, "maybe we can make a few side trips on the way."

***

Aoshi sliced across another man's chest with deadly accuracy. He wasn't in the mood to play around with these punks that Shishio sent. Was the man really underestimating him?

He heard the sound of a gun being aimed at him and Aoshi quickly swept the nearest attacker off his feet and used him as a shield. As he crumpled to his feet, Aoshi used the opportunity to bridge the gap between him and the gunman and drove his kodachi into the man's abdomen.

"You haven't changed, Shinomori," a new voice sounded.

Aoshi's attackers hung back as a figure in gray and blue stepped forward. The man wore a slight mustache, and even though it was already night time, his eyes were covered by a pair of shades. Aoshi recognized him instantly, and understood why Shishio had sent all these other men. They were just there to wear him down before the main attraction made his appearance.

The man was blind, but he had honed his skills and his senses to precision. He met his enemies with a thirst for revenge, battling them in their own territory. If his opponent was an expert marksman, he took out his gun. If his opponent preferred hand-to-hand combat, then he complied. He was adept at anticipating his enemies' moves so he could counter them effectively. The man was deadly.

Aoshi readied his kodachis. "Usui."

***

They formed a strange procession, Soujirou noted – the green van that Misao and the mysterious man were, a red Honda that he concluded was from the police, and his own white car. As the van coasted to a stop near one dim flickering streetlamp, Soujirou did the same. He took out his own gun and adjusted the silencer. He could take her out now. He could take them all out now.

Such a shame.

The van's right door opened and a familiar figure stepped out of the driver's seat. Soujirou blinked as he recognized Professor Shinomori's trenchcoat, the same one he had been wearing this morning. He was surprised to realize that this was his mystery man, even more surprised to find him still alive; he had assumed that Usui would have disposed of him by now. Aoshi's back was to him, and the man began to walk away, struggling as if with a slight limp. Soujirou did not concern himself with Aoshi. That was Usui's problem, not his. In the Juppongatana, you did not take out someone else's assignment; it was one of the few codes of honor that they lived by. No, this time Soujirou was concerned with the reporter left in the van, as Aoshi disappeared into a nearby building, filled with small restaurants and cheap novelty shops.

After a few moments, the police officer in the Honda made his move. The car drove past the van slowly, and Soujirou took aim, ready to take both the cop and Misao out once he had the chance.

But the Honda came to an abrupt halt right beside the van, without any pretence of stealth. Something was wrong. A blond police officer alighted from the vehicle and threw the van doors open. Even with the distance, Soujirou heard the man curse. Then he was running, into the building where Aoshi had entered.

Soujirou was running as well. He should have never underestimated these two. As he passed by the van, he cast it one quick look. It only confirmed what he realized now – the van was empty.

***

His choice for a college degree had been a simple one. For years he had taken life for granted, toying with it so callously – his own as much as others. But in the end, he remained fascinated by it, sought to understand it beyond the dictates of religion and society's beliefs. Ever since he had left the Juppongatana, Aoshi began to hold it in high regard, a gift he was never meant to have.

But as Usui approached him, he could only think of the different ways he was taught to kill.

***

"Did we lose him?" Misao asked Hannya, who was cloaked in Aoshi's trenchcoat. It was good that she was so short; all she did was step on Hannya's feet as he walked away from the van, supporting all of her weight. Aoshi's trenchcoat did most of the trick, hiding her from anyone who would be watching from behind. Once inside the row of establishments, they both started running.

"I think so," Hannya replied. "It may take quite a while before he realizes we're gone."

Misao grinned up at him. "Didn't I tell you this would work?" They headed for the back entrance, struggling to increase the distance between them and the policeman. Once they reached the sidewalk, Misao flagged down the first cab that she saw, then forced Hannya's head down to keep him from becoming conspicuous. Then she rattled off Hanazawa Kazuma's address to the startled driver.

They sped down the street. Misao looked back, sighing in relief when she didn't see anyone emerge from the building after them or notice the red Honda at their feet. They were in the clear. "You can sit up now," she told Hannya, tapping his shoulder.

The older man looked at her curiously. "We were supposed to wait for the boss' instructions. I don't think he'd look kindly on you disobeying him."

"He's not my keeper," Misao retorted grimly. "We haven't heard from him since you last talked to him. Besides, I have you with me. No one's going to take us out." She tried to put on her game face but failed. In her heart, she knew only one thing: her life was in danger. If she died now, then she wanted to die with the knowledge of what really happened to her father. It was all she had left, all she had to hope for. She had lived a lie all her life. She wasn't going to die with it.

***

They circled each other, a faint smirk playing on Usui's lips. "I warned Shishio about you, coming with that journalist of yours. Of all people."

Something in Usui's voice told Aoshi that he knew who she was, a familiarity that went beyond the fact that she was becoming quite well-known in journalism. "What do you mean?" he asked quietly.

Usui attacked, his sword whistling through the air. The rest of Shishio's men gathered around them were deathly silent, almost refusing to breathe so that Usui could focus on just Aoshi's presence. Aoshi took a step back and used both kodachis to trap Usui's weapon. Usui kicked him in the abdomen and slid his sword free. "Don't play dumb with me, Shinomori. She's out for revenge, and she's using you to do it."

Confused as he was by Usui's accusations, Aoshi chose to ignore him. He began moving around rapidly, in his patented move. The Kaiten Kenbu was akin to water flowing, a movement so quick and continuous that it gave the impression of being at many places at one time. On someone blind like Usui, the move lost its visual edge, unable to disorient him with multiple images. But Aoshi knew that Usui relied heavily on his hearing, so by moving quickly he could still confuse the blind man, keep him guessing where he would strike.

When Aoshi refused to rise to his verbal bait, Usui grinned. "You mean you didn't know? We were all fooled in the beginning. Even Shishio didn't suspect a thing. Shishio killed her father…"

Aoshi's technique slowed just a hearbeat at Usui's revelation.

"…Your last hit made sure that no one would find that out…"

The words struck him more lethally than any weapon could. Miyazawa had been the only witness to the murder of Hideki Ichitaka. He had poisoned Miyazawa in exchange for his freedom. Aoshi tightened his grip on his kodachis as he sliced at Usui's chest.

But the man was ready for him, and Aoshi's attack only drew a sliver of blood. "Now I guess she does." Then Usui laughed as Aoshi clumsily parried his attack, enough for him to slice through Aoshi's upper left arm. "Pit you against Shishio, and watch the two men who kept her father's death a secret destroy each other."

Who would have known that the search for her father would lead back to him?

In the beginning, Shishio had been after him, seeking retribution for the research that Hannya assured him was already on their way to the Juppongatana headquarters. Shishio had been after her too, because he thought she knew something important, and because he believed that Misao was important to Aoshi in return. But somewhere in the middle, Shishio had discovered who Misao really was.

Usui dove for him, and Aoshi swooped low, his right leg extended, skimming the concrete in a perfect circle. The movement caught Usui off-balance, and the blind swordsman fell to the ground. Aoshi struck, but his opponent managed to roll away.

Aoshi's thoughts turned back to a pair of innocent blue eyes looking at him – sometimes burning with irritation and anger, other times flashing with wit. And of that one time, when they shimmered with tears.

Usui was wrong. Whatever Misao had found out about her father's death, he was sure that she didn't know of his involvement in it. Not yet, anyway. Otherwise, she would never have trusted him the way she did now. He had to find her as soon as he was finished with Usui. He had to make sure that she didn't find out the wrong way. Was she still with Hannya? Wherever they were, he hoped she was safe.

"Don't you worry," Usui told him, steel glinting in the night. "Shishio sent Seta after her."

Aoshi gritted his teeth and charged. His kodachis were a flurry of movement as they ripped through Usui. The blind swordsman was overwhelmed by the fierceness of his attack, his sword unable to block the kodachis that swung at him relentlessly. Aoshi placed a well-timed kick to Usui's face, knocking him down, the sunglasses flying from his face.

Aoshi's kodachis dripped dark red.

He stepped on the sunglasses as he walked away, crushing it with his heel. This time, no one stopped him.

End of Chapter 11-Under Fire

Author's Notes: I am not completely familiar with where Japanese police interrogate their suspects, so I took my cue from a movie I saw on a Japanese cable channel (thank God for Wowow).

I took so long in uploading Chapter 10 that I promised Chapter 11 would be worth it. Little did I know that it would take me even much longer. I really wanted this chapter to be worth it. I hope that I didn't disappoint. This is for really irked, Neonaph Dreamchaser, and chibi-angel.